


The Ghost of Newsies' 1899

by CaraBeatriceGreen



Series: Newsies' Untold Stories [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, gabbs is a medium, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-17 04:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraBeatriceGreen/pseuds/CaraBeatriceGreen
Summary: 17-year-old Gabby Jones, is reluctant to have the ability to talk to ghosts. She flees to Manhattan and becomes a newsie, choosing the nickname, Gabbs. But can she keep her flapper shut so to not expose her female identity? And will the spirit of our favorite crippled newsboy give her trouble? The two must work together to accomplish the same goal: find out where they belong.





	1. The Life of a Crippled Newsie

**Author's Note:**

> Bianca Jonker worked on Chapter 8. The rest was written by me.

I remember when Jack used to talk about Santa Fe. He would come up with a different plan every night before we fell asleep. “Jus' ya' wait, Crutchie”, he would say to me. “I'll find us a way ta' get 'dere. An' 'den we'll be free o' Manhattan for good.” Yeah, Jack always seemed to have everything figured out. He was so confident that we'd make it there someday. I often wondered however, if he was just saying stuff to get me to sleep. After all, the life of a newsie isn't an easy one. We worked from sunrise to sunset, hawking the headline 'til our throats went numb. It could be raining, snowing, etc. You'd still see us on every corner of the city, bribing folks to buy papes. With a job like that, you needed all the sleep you could get. Jack always gave me the impression that he'd look out for me. After all, in a city like New York you had two options; either you learned to survive or you didn't survive. Still because of that reason, it was nice to believe that someone bigger and stronger than me was on my side. Despite of me being a crip, Jack always made me feel like I mattered, ya know? He made me feel, that even in this cruel and unforgiving city, I was important. But it all changed after that fight in Newsie Square...

 

It was the middle of July, and I remember this because the humid stench of summer still hung in the air. We had recently recruited two new guys. Davey, a smart lad who was about 16-17. And his younger brother Les, a little kid almost 10. Davey and Les's father had had an accident while at work so until he got better, they agreed to work as newsies.

So, after a long day, we headed back to the bunkhouse. Jack, Davey, and Les had run off somewhere, though later Specs told me he saw them run into the theater to hide from Snyder. Snyder ran a juvenile detention center he dubbed 'The Refuge' of all names. Jack and I knew a better name; Hell. Jack even got sent there once after getting caught stealing food and clothing for, ironically, the kids at The Refuge. Yeah, Snyder roughed him up real good. When Jack finally escaped and got back to us, he was more skin and bones than usual. Snyder had been tailing him ever since.

Anyway, so when Jack got back from the theater, he had a rather different look to him. I could tell almost instantly what it was. Flushed cheeks, goofy grin, squinty eyes, and him murmuring to himself then shaking his head. Yep, it all added up to one thing. Jack was in love. So, that night I asked him about it. “Katherine”, he said. “Her name is Katherine Plumber. She's a reporter for da' New York Sun. Aw Crutchie, she's so beautiful. I really do hopes' I see her again.”

Was I jealous? Maybe a little. But that was because I was used to me and Jack being so close.

“Don't worry 'bout it.” Race told me when I asked for advice. He took another puff of his cigar and said, “You'se like a brodd'ah ta' Jack. He would nev'ah replace you'se wit' some know-it-all lady reporter. You'se mean every'ting ta' him. 'sides, how long could it last?” I wasn't too sure though. Jack was completely smitten.

The next day, Joseph Pulitzer, editor and chief of The New York World, decides to raise the price of the papers; for us. You see, before we head to our selling spots in the morning, we line up, and pay a penny for every two papes we take to sell. But because Mr. Pulitzer was too greedy to keep things the same as they always been, he decided to take advantage of us by raising our price for papers. So, this really ticked off Jack. So much that he wanted to do something drastic. Then Davey came up with the idea that we should form a union and go on strike. Jack agreed and together they put a plan into action. They decided to convince the other newsie territories to go on strike too. So, we all split up into groups of three and took to the many districts of New York. We asked all of them but none of them would join the cause unless Spot Conlon, head of the Brooklyn newsies, signed on. Now Spot may be short in stature but for what he lacks in size he makes up for in attitude. Not to mention he's pretty good with that slingshot of his. Every one of us knew that having him on our side couldn't hurt. Spot made even the toughest of the newsies uncomfortable. By tomorrow we'd have a whole newsie army.

But tomorrow came and Brooklyn hadn't agreed to join us yet. Not to mention, we couldn't help but notice that the paper had replaced us. We were about to give up, when Davey convinced the new guys to go on strike with us. It really lifted our spirits. So much, that things got a little out of hand. We started ripping up papers, tilting over the wagons, shouting and yelling. We caused such a commotion that they sent the Delancy brothers to break us up. Well Jack was so caught in the moment, he punched them and they were out cold. Then the cops showed up...so did Snyder. So, we all tried to get away. I wasn't so lucky. Jack was terrified of Snyder. He didn't, wasn't going back to The Refuge. I guess that’s why he left me behind. Despite how fast I was trying to limp, Snyder caught up with me in no time. Of all times to be crippled, this wasn't a good one. “Jack!” My attempts to get Jack's attention failed and before I knew it Snyder knocked me down with my crutch and dragged me away. “Jack! Jack, please help me! Where ya' goin'?! JACK!”


	2. What Crime Deserves This Punishment?!

“Where is he?!” Snyder demanded. I was sitting in his office with my wrists tied to the chair. Two of his goons stood behind me, just in case I miraculously made an escape. “Tell me, gimp leg, or else!”

“I ain't tellin' you'se nothin'!” I said. Snyder snapped his fingers, signaling the meat heads behind me. One grabbed my chin and forced me to look Snyder in the eye.

“My patience is wearing thin, crip! Tell me where Jack Kelly is!”

“Not on my life!” Snyder suddenly got this demented grin on his ugly mug.

“Is that your final answer?” he asked. I spat in his direction. “Very well. Just keep in mind, Crutchie,” he said my name as sarcastically as possible. “you're at my mercy. And I never show mercy! Especially on worthless punks like you and Kelly. Hank, Rob, teach this twerp that he should learn to respect his authoritative figures.” I heard Hank and Rob crack their knuckles. I gulped. “As for you, I expect an answer in the morning.” He walked out and slammed the door.

“Alright crip, its time you learned your lesson.” one of them said. He pulled back on the top of the chair.

“Hold him steady, Hank, I want a clear shot of his face.”

While balancing the chair with his foot, Hank grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face into Rob's range. Rob then proceeded to punch me as hard as he could. The pain grew intense as I counted the blows one after the other. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8; he punched me 8 times. Through both pain-filled, eyes I saw his smirk. One final blow to the gut and I was out cold.

 

When I came to, my whole face felt numb and my eyes stung as I opened them. I was laying on a bunk bed in small room of other bunk beds. Boys around my age or younger cluttered them. I myself, was on the top bunk of the bed I shared, with some small, frail, form on the bottom bunk. The bed itself was beside a window overlooking the starlit city. It was obviously late in the evening, for not just the stars, but the moon shown high in the sky. “I wond'ah if Jack's asleep yet?” I pondered out loud. Then another thought occurred to me. “I wond'ah if he even cares dat I'm gone.” Suddenly I couldn't hold it in anymore. Between the pain in my swollen face and the pain in my heart, it was too much. So, for the first time in a long time, I cried myself to sleep.

 

I awoke to find the kids I shared a room with were staring at me. Feeling a little defensive, I broke the silence. “Sa'matter? You'se ain't never seen a crip tryin' ta' sleep before?” I asked all of them. One of the kids, who had a black feather weaved into his cap and a pointy nose, stepped forward. The boy had straight, black hair and wore a blue shirt and gray trousers with matching suspenders.

“Name's Crow,” he stated. “Is you Crutchie?”

“Yeah, dat's me. Why?” Suddenly all the boys gasped simultaneously and began chatting amongst each other. All except Crow, who stood calm and collected. I made a mental note that he must be their leader. Crow then held up his hand and shushed them all.

“Quiet! We don't want ta wake up Warden Snyder!” he half yelled half whispered.

“He ain't up yet?” I asked curiously.

“Snyder likes his beauty sleep.” Crow explained. The guys behind him snickered. “Now, is it true 'dat ya' know Jack Kelly?”

“Who wants ta' know?”

“All o' us.” Crow replied. The boys all nodded vigorously, except Crow who simply began explaining. “Ya' may not notice, but Jack's a real legend 'round here. 'Dee only guy who ev'ah escap't 'da Refuge shares 'da same name as your friend. It can't be a coincidence.”

“How 'da ya' knows' 'bout me?” I couldn't help but ask.

“Jack writes us all lett'ahs. He mentions ya' a lot. Santa Fe, 'da strike, but mostly you.”

“Hold 'da beans, you'se know 'bout 'da strike?”

“Well sure. Our only window overlooks Newsie Square. We see everyting. Even saw Snyder soak ya' wit' your own crutch. Look't like it hurt.”

“It did.” I stated bluntly. Then I felt a tug on my leg. I looked down to see a boy around Les's age. With his thumb in his mouth.

“Is Jack Kelly really your friend?” the boy asked taking his thumb out long enough to speak then popping it right back in his mouth.

“I uset' 'ta 'tink so, but now I'se not too sure.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Well you'se saw how Jack left me 'ta save his own skin. He don't care no more. And it's all because o' 'dat Katherine lady.”

“Who's Katherine?”

“Enough questions, Tommy, I hear Snyder coming!” Crow snapped nervously. Then we heard marching footsteps.

“Everyone, front and cent'ah!” Crow shouted. All the boys lined up against their beds. I climbed down with hast, grabbed my crutch, and stood as straight as I could. In marched Warden Snyder with Hank and Rob.

“Looks like our new convict forgot to get dressed.” Snyder stated. I felt fever in my cheeks and looked down to see I was only wearing a night shirt. “Get dressed gimp-leg! Then meet me in my office.”

 

Another day; another soakin'. This time I was thrown to the floor. Of course, being my luck, I landed on my bad leg. As I was groaning in pain, I was hit in the back with my crutch. “Somehow; someway I'll break you.” Snyder threatened me. “And when I do, Kelly will be back in my custody!”

“That'll nev'ah happen. Nothin' you do will make me rat out Jack.” I told him.

“We'll see about that.” he replied. “You haven't eaten since you got here. And you won't until you decide to talk. In fact, your friends won't be eating either.” As if on cue my stomach growled noisily. “Hank, take him back to his room.” Hank grabbed me roughly by the arms and dragged me back to the dormitory. He swung open the door and threw me to the floor. Luckily, the guys caught me before my head hit the hard, splintered wood.

“Let us know when you feel like talking.” Hank said gruffly. He slammed the door so hard, another crack appeared above the frame.

“So, what happen't?” said a voice behind me. Startled, I turned to see who it was.

“Cripes, Crow, don't sneak up on me like 'dat!”

“Sorry,” Crow shrugged. I really didn't know how to break the news to these kids. Most if not all were in pretty, rough, shape. Telling them that meals were canceled because of me? They wouldn't take it well. I figured I might as well be honest and get it over with.

“He said we won't eat 'til I tell him 'bout Jack.”

“'Dat's not fair.” I heard Tommy whine.

“I know and I'm sorry.” I told them.

“Why is you sorry?” Crow began. I looked at him and saw that he had raised an eyebrow. “S'not your fault Snyder's an asshole. My guess is, he prolly' wants us 'ta turn against ya'. 'Dat ain't happenin'.”

“You're not serious?”

“I is too. Any friend o' Jack's is a friend o' ours. Right, boys?” All nodded and commented in agreement. “And judgin' by how you defends' Jack, you're a mighty good one.” Crow added. Through the swelling I could feel myself smiling.

 

That night I decided to write Jack a letter.

 

Dear Jack,  
Greetings from the refuge. How are you? I’m okay. Guess I wasn’t much help yesterday? Snyder soaked me real good with my crutch. Oh yeah, Jack, this is Crutchie by the way. These here guards, they is rude. They say ‘jump boy’ you jump or you’re screwed. But the food ain't so bad least so far, cause so far, they ain't brung us no food. I miss the rooftop. Sleeping right out in the open, in your penthouse in the sky. There’s a cool breeze blowin’ even in July.  
Anyway. So, guess what? There’s this secret escape plan I got! Tie a sheet to the bed, toss the end out the window, climb down then 'take off like a shot. Maybe though, not tonight. I ain’t slept and my leg still ain’t right. Hey but Pulitzer, he’s going down. And then Jack I was thinking we might just go, like you were sayin’. Where it’s clean and green and pretty, with no buildings in the way, and you’re riding palominos every 'day. Once that train makes...  
I was interrupted with a loud shushing. “Damn 'dis place…” I muttered. I paused briefly, then continued.  
I’ll be fine. Good as new. But there’s one thing I need you to do. On the rooftop, you said that a family looks out for each other; so, you tell all the fellas for me to protect one another.  
The end,  
Your friend,  
Your BEST friend,  
Your brother,  
Crutchie

I was shushed once more. I blew out my candle, covered myself in the raggedy blankets, and drifted off into sleep.

 

I woke the next morning to find Crow poking me. “Crutchie, wake up! Ya gotta see 'dis!” He said excitedly. So, I climbed out of bed, grabbed my crutch leaning against the wall, and followed Crow to the other side of the room. All the other kids, including Tommy were sitting in a circle. The thing in middle of the circle caught my eye. It was yesterday's newspaper from The New York Sun.  
“What's so special 'bout 'dat?” I asked sarcastically.

“What's so special 'bout it? Crutchie, look clos'ah!” Crow said as he practically shoved the paper in my face. So, I read the headline.

“Newsies Stop the World!” It didn't 'take but a moment for it to sink in. “They did it! They spread 'da word about 'da strike! Oh, Brooklyn's bound 'ta help us now!” Then I noticed the photo. “Hey its Jack and 'da fellas!”  
“And you.” Crow chimed in.

“Say, 'dat is me!” I said 'taking a closer look. “Boy, it feels weird knowin' 'dat people read 'dis.”

“'Dere's somethin' else, Crutchie.” Crow said. “Check out who wrote 'da article.” I looked down and read the name. My jaw dropped.

“She 'dat Katherine'?”

“'da one and 'da same.” I replied.

 

That day I felt weaker than usual. It was weird, but I had the strangest feeling something bad was gonna happen. On top of that it was raining. Everything just felt...wrong. After I got dressed, I was immediately summoned to Snyder's office. No surprise there. “Well crip, turns out I don't need you anymore.” Snyder began.

“Ya don't?” I asked. I didn't know what to think. What did he mean? Then it hit me. “You saw 'da newspaper.”

“Of course I did. Where did you think that little pisser, Crow got it from? The damn thief stole it from my waste basket.” Snyder leaned on an elbow and looked at me through his round spectacles. “All this time he was hiding right under my nose. And yet you remain a stubborn pain in the ass!” Snyder slammed his fist down on the desk. “I must admit, though your loyalty to Kelly is noble, it's also rather unwise. I would have let you go once we caught him. Of course, that was only if you told us where he was. Now I'm going to do something completely different. Rob, Hank, hold him still.” Snyder got up, picked up a wood board from behind the desk, and marched over to where the two lugs were holding me. “In case you tried to warn the famous, Jack Kelly about what's to come!” he said. The look on his face was enough to make Spot Conlon run for cover. I tried my best to get away, but tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber had me in a vice grip. The last thing I remember, was the sharp agonizing pain from being hit with the board. Then I went to sleep, but I didn't wake up. I just felt a tingling sensation all over my body as my soul floated out of it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think? Next chapter is when the real story begins... And we meet Gabbs!


	3. Ghost?!/Meeting Gabbs

I remember when I was diagnosed with polio. I was younger than Les and had a 2% chance of survival. It was a miracle that it stopped in my right leg instead of spreading throughout my whole body. I considered myself pretty, lucky from then on. I met Jack and he took me in and got me a job. I met the other newsies who soon became my brothers. They gave me a nickname; the name I went by since that very day. Christopher Morris, the sickly kid with no hopes of living, died. And Crutchie, the spunky newsboy with personality, was born. With a new home, a new family, and a new name, I was given something else entirely new; hope. I promised myself I would put this second chance to good use. That someday I would repay those who showed me kindness when I needed it most.

 

At this point, it seemed that day would never come. I found I could no longer feel the pain that had come from all the beating I'd received these past few days. In fact, I couldn't feel anything. Except how cold it was all of a sudden. As if a chilling breeze blew in from the window. I opened my eyes and saw that there was no window. I also remembered that the weather hadn't changed from hot to cold yet. So why was I feeling so chilled? I turned and saw Snyder standing...over my body! “Dat can't be right.” I stated. I noticed that my words didn't faze him nor his goons. They were just staring at the body lying motionless on the floor. My body. “What kind o' weird trick is dis? Am I dreamin'?” Then it occurred to me. “No! No, I can't be dead! I-I I'm,” But in my heart, I knew it was true. I looked down and realized I was floating. Floating above what used to be my body. I saw that where my legs used to be, was nothing more but a ghostly tail. “Dis can't be happenin'!” I heard myself cry out. My wail caused a mild quake in the office. The light hanging above the desk flickered a bit.

“Damn it! Just another thing that needs fixin'!” Snyder groaned, with no clue that I caused the earthquake. And how could he know? I no longer existed in the world of the living.

“What do we do with the body, boss?” Hank asked.

“Take him and put him outside in front of the second story window. We're gonna make this look like a suicide.” Snyder said evilly. Hank and Rob picked up my body by the legs and arms and carried it out of the office. “And when you’re done, come back and clean up this mess.” Snyder shouted to them. “Last thing we need is any evidence pointing us to the murder.” he added. He left the office and went to set up the fake suicide. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure hiding by the door frame. I turned to see it was Crow. He walked up to where my body had been laying. Droplets of blood littered that spot.

“Goodbye, Crutchie.” he sniffled. “Da fellas, and I will nev'ah forget you. And try not ta be too mad at Jack. He didn't know dis would happen. No one could've known.”

“What the hell are you doing in my office, twerp?” Snyder appeared out of nowhere. “Get out! And don't let me catch you in here again, or you'll be next!” he yelled. Crow scrambled out of there before Snyder could catch him. I just stood (floated) there dumbfounded. Why was this happening to me? How was I gonna repay my debt? What about Jack? Then I remembered.

“I don't has time ta feel sorry for maself. Snyder's goin' after Jack! I hafta warn him, somehow.” Recalling what I knew about ghosts, I phased through the brick wall and flew to where I was sure to find him.

 

Surprisingly, flying wasn't all that hard. It was actually, kinda, fun. Never in my life had I been able to move so fast. But even though being a ghost had some advantages, it wasn't worth dying for. I missed being alive. Even if it meant I had to go back to being crippled, there had to be a way to reverse what had been done. In the meantime, I had something else to worry about. How was I going to warn Jack if he couldn't hear me? I had to think of something quick, the theater was coming into view.

When I got to the theater, I saw Jack painting another backdrop for Medda. Jack was a fantastic artist. He could draw, paint, sketch. Just give him the right stuff and he could make a masterpiece. Anyway, here came Davey, Les, and Katherine. I flew in closer and noticed that they were trying to convince Jack to follow through with the strike. Jack refused and turned the backdrop around to show a political cartoon he had painted. The cartoon depicted us newsies being crushed by Pulitzer's boot. I winced a bit then sighed, “Oh, Jack...”

“When did it get so cold in here?” I heard Katherine ask.

“Never mind that,” Davey said. “C'mon, Jack, we need you.”

“There's no way I'm puttin' them kids back in danger.” Jack replied.  
“Tell me how quitting does Crutchie any good?” No reply. “Exactly, so...” While Davey gave his motivational speech, I paced in thought. They still think I'm alive? But, I thought no one cared anymore. Suddenly a newsie I'd never seen before came running into the theater. When he got near the light he pulled his cap down suspiciously. “Who da hell is dis guy?” I said. Then the strangest thing happened. The guy turned and looked right at me. His eyes were wide but instead of looking scared, they looked nervous. Which was weird, cause you'd assume any human in their right mind would run, screaming in terror if they saw a ghost. Which brought up something else weird. How was it that my friends couldn't see me, but some punk I’d never met before could? Davey must've noticed him looking weird at me 'cause when he was done with the pep-talk he came over.

“Hey, Gabbs, your just in time! Jack's reconsidered the rally!” Gabbs composed himself and spoke.

“Dat's great Davey! But I has good news too. Brooklyn's joinin' da rally!”

“I don't believe it...” Davey said. Neither could I, really. Spot Conlon was sure to help us win this war. We finally had a chance.

“Woo-hoo, yes!” I hollered as I threw my cap in the air. “Pulitzer ain't got nothin on us!”

“Gabbs, what are you staring at?” Davey asked. I realized it was me. He looked at me worriedly then turned back to Davey.

“Oh, uh just tinkin' 'bout how we's gonna beat Joe now dat we gots' Jack.”

“Didn't ya say Brooklyn's comin'?” Jack asked.

“Well...yeah but it's still nice havin' ya back on our side.” Gabbs replied.

“Well I'm gonna go rub dis in Joe's dirty face!” Jack said. He seemed to have his confidence back as he sprinted out of the theater.

“Looks like he's happy.” Katherine stated the obvious.

“Yeah, but we better go prepare for the rally.” Davey said. “Gabbs, are you coming?”

“No, I'll catch up wit you'se lat'ah.” said Gabbs, looking back at me. Les shrugged to the others and they all left the theater. “Alright, ghost, let me make dis clear. I don't know who youse are or what you'se want, but I don't care. I got's my own problems. So please, just keep your ghostliness to's a minimum. I can't do anythin' about it, okay?” I just glared at him with my mouth open. Who in the hell did this guy think he was? Oh, ghost or not, I was gonna let him have it!

“Look, pal in case you's haven't notic't, my problems are far worse than yours! I died today! I was literally beaten ta death by Warden Snyder. And on top of dat, no one can see or hear me 'cept you. So, let me tell you, you snarky little jerk. Don't be gettin' too comfortable around, Jack! He's my brod'dah, okay? So, go find your own friend!” Gabbs just stared at me, obviously taken aback by my anger. He blinked a few times then took off in the direction of the bunkhouse. I followed.

 

I tailed Gabbs through the streets of Manhattan, trying to stay hidden at the same time. This guy was obviously up to something, and by golly I was gonna find out what it was. It was pretty easy keeping up with him since I could fly and phase through obstacles. Back when I was alive, I couldn't keep up with my fellow newsies because of my bad leg. But now that I could fly, it didn't matter. Which was good, considering I no longer had legs anyway. Back to the chase, we were almost to the bunkhouse. Gabbs would turn around once in while and look behind him. It was as if he felt I was following him. Which made sense seeing as I, like any other ghost, gave off cold energy. We got to the building and Gabbs went inside. I phased through the wall and saw Gabbs was sitting on his bed getting undressed, no doubt to take a shower. When he took off his shirt, I got the shock of my afterlife. Even though all I could see was the back, it was clear Gabbs was wearing a bra! “What da hell?!” I exclaimed, loud enough for Gabbs to hear me. Oops. Gabbs froze, put the shirt back on and turned around to face me.

“I don't knows what you tink you saw, but... oh it’s just you, ghost.” Gabbs said breathing a sigh of relief.

“Y-you’re a g-girl?! B-but,” Gabbs held up her hand, obviously to explain the situation.

“Look, I know what you may think, but it's not true. I took up this identity to escape my past. In no way am I here to spy. I just, I needed a second chance in life and this was all I could think of. I was desperate.” Gabbs looked truly ashamed. I could tell she was on the verge of tears for I heard her sniffle. Surprisingly, I felt sorry for her. She just wanted a second chance. Just like I did. I flew over and sat next to her. We were quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Then Gabbs broke the silence.

“I'm sorry for being rude.” she turned and looked at me. “I'm not really good at handling my abilities. Especially around others. The truth is, I ran away from my home in Connecticut because of all the bullies who made my life a living nightmare. Even my father couldn't seem to grasp the fact that his daughter could speak to the dead. I was so tired of being misunderstood, I just had to get away. So, I took one of my dad's shirts, his old vest, my pair of khaki capris, and a newsboy cap I found. I cut my hair real short too, so it would look more believable. With my disguise ready and a train ticket I purchased, I came to New York in hopes of starting over. Luckily, the first person I ran into was Jack, and well, you pretty much know the rest. People are easy. Ghosts, not so much.”

“But, aren't ghosts jus dead people.” I offered. Gabbs blinked and gave a half smile.

“Well, when you put it that way,” she said. There was a long pause. This time it was I who reignited conversation.

“Can't we jus start over?” This time Gabbs gave me a full smile.

“I'd like that.” she replied. “I'll go first. Hi, I'm Gabby Jones, and you are?”

“Christopher Morris, at yer service.” I said.

“Nice to meet you, Christopher.”

“Please, ma friends call me Crutchie.” The smile drained from Gabby's face. Uh-oh. Probably shouldn't have told her that.

“You're...you're Crutchie? But, Jack a-and the others; they think you're still alive.” her eyes went wide with horror. “Oh, this is not good. Not good at all. If Jack finds out about this...” Gabby kept going on and on, digressing like crazy. Now I knew why they called her, 'Gabbs'.

“Gabby!” I shouted to get her to stop. Gabby looked at me and blushed.

“Sorry. It happens when I get anxious.” she said as she rubbed the back of her neck, obviously embarrassed. “What are we going to tell Jack?”

“Nutin'!” I said hastily. Gabby raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean, nothing?” she asked.

 

“I mean we can't tells him nutin'. We need him to follow throughs wit the strike. He finds out I'm dead, it's all ov'ah. If we has any chance of beatin' Pulitzer, he can't know.”

“He's bound to find out, sometime.”

“We's gotten dis far, Gabby. We can't let sometin' like ma death ruin dat.”

“It's going to be hard trying to keep this a secret. What if someone discovers your body? Or worse, what if a reporter discovers your body? Then everyone will know, including Jack.” I thought about this. It sure was possible. Then I remembered. Snyder was going to set up a suicide. My suicide! 

“Gabby, I gots an idea!”

“Oh, yeah? What would that be?”

“Go shower and get dressed. We're gonna hide my body!”


	4. Return to the Refuge

“Nev'ah tought I'd see dis place again. Mainly cause I didn't want to.” It was weird. You'd think because I was a ghost I wouldn't be scared. Wrong. “Bein' back here gives me da goosebumps.”

“Ghosts don't get goosebumps.” Gabby stated. “The surrounding atmosphere changes with their emotions.”

“Meaning?”

“For instance, when you're scared, you give off more cold energy than usual. Which explains why I'm freezing my ass off!”

“S'not my fault dis place terrifies me! I died here for cripes sake!”

“Shush! I here footsteps; it’s now or never!”

“One distraction comin' up.” I started making ghostly wails. The nearby streetlamps began to flicker then went out altogether. I winked at Gabby, giving her the signal to go to Snyder's office and look for clues. He was our best bet on finding my body. We discussed the plan earlier that night, and we were going to try to stick to it. But that meant we couldn't free Crow and the others.

“Why not?” I had asked.

“Crutchie, if we free them, I could get caught and end up here. Or if we get away with it, Snyder would blame it on Jack, which would put Jack in even more danger. The whole thing would be counterproductive.” Gabby paused. “We wait until we have enough evidence to put Snyder in jail. Until then, we just do what we came to do.”

Even though I absolutely hated the idea of leaving them to continue suffering, Gabby was right. We couldn't risk anyone else being sent here. My friends' rescue would have to wait. Suddenly, I heard a sparrow call from the second floor. I followed it to the last window on the right side. I met up with Gabby.

“Did you finds anyting?” I asked her. She was looking through a filing cabinet then paused before taking out a file from the bottom drawer. “How'd you get dat open? I tought Snyder kept it locked?” Gabby looked up and pulled a small, thin object from her cap. I phased through the wall and flew to where she was sitting.

“Hair pins often double as lock picks.” Gabby replied, grinning. She stuck the pin back in her cap and held up the file. “You might want to look at this.” she added. I tried to grab it but my hand went right through.

“I can't.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Uh, Gabbs, in case you'se forgot, I'se a ghost. I can't,”

“Physical objects are tricky, but if you concentrate, you won't phase through them. Now focus on the file and the way it would feel in your hands.” I did as Gabby instructed. This time I was able to hold onto the file. I could feel the smooth, hard, paper, folder in my hands as if I were still alive.

“Hey I did it!” I exclaimed. At that moment, we heard someone stomping up the stairs. Gabby quickly locked the door and used a chair to hold the knob in place.

“That won't hold them for long.” Gabby said. She was trying to keep a straight face, but with every pound on the door, she looked more and more nervous. “We have to get out of here!”

“How? I can fly and phase trou walls, but Snyder's blockin' your only exit.” Gabby seemed to be taking in this information along with our surroundings. I could practically see the gears in her head spinning.

“Ok, ghost lesson number three,” Gabby began. I could see the sweat prickling on her scalp. She was terrified, but was trying hard to remain calm. “You can also make physical objects phase through solid barriers.”

“English, Gabbs!” I yelled urgently. I must of caused another quake, because we heard loud thumping outside the door. I peeked out. Snyder and his goons were laying at the bottom of the stairs. “I tink I just bought us some time.” I turned to Gabby, waiting for instructions. She took a long, deep breath and slowly let it out.

“Ok, hand me the file.” Gabby took the file and tucked it deep into her vest. “Now grab my hands and don't let go.” I finally realized what Gabby was doing.

“Gabbs, are you'se off your nut! I can't phase trou walls wit you! You'll hit da brick wall!”

“Just clear your mind and focus on me and the wall. I'll understand if it doesn't work, but only if you try!” Gabby said sternly.

“But if I can't do it, you'll be stuck here! Snyder will have your head!”

“There's no other way, Crutchie!” Gabby was breathing heavily. She sighed and calmed herself.

“Do you trust me?” I paused for only a moment.

“Ok...”

“Ok, concentrate.” Gabby backed up against the wall facing the window. “Ready?” she asked. I nodded and grabbed her hands tightly in mine. Gabby ran to the window and jumped just I phased us through the wall. A moment or two passed. I chuckled lightly.

“you'se can open your eyes now.” I told her. She peeked through one eye then opened the other. When she noticed how high we were, Gabbs screamed and held her knees to her chest. “Don't tells me you'se afraid of heights?”

“I won't if you promise not to drop me!” she yelled. I decided to ease Gabbs's nerves and carefully landed near the newsboy lodge house.

“you'se gonna be okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I'll be fine now that I'm back on solid ground.” she replied, still a bit in shock. Then her expression changed, as if she remembered something important. “Crutchie, you really need to read this.” Gabbs said as she handed me the file. The tab on the file had my name on it. I opened it to find papers filled with notes and observations on my stay at the refuge. The sentence structure looked like chicken scratches; I could barely read it. Then a small scrap of paper floated out of the envelope. I caught it before it touched the ground. Whoever wrote the note was obviously in a hurry for the writing looked rushed.

Hid body in basement!

I just floated there; eyes wide, jaw dropped. Gabbs startled me when she spoke. “So, we know your body is in a basement; question is, which basement?” I looked up from the documents and noticed Gabbs. She looked completely exhausted. I knew if I told her where we could find my body, she'd demand to go with me. But since she was still alive, her body was in desperate need of rest. Not to mention the others needed her help with the rally tomorrow.

“Gabbs, let's just give up da search for now. Da fellas need your help wit da rally tomorrow.” Suddenly *THUNK*, Gabbs passed out from exhaustion. Snoring rather loudly, she was out like a light. So, I gently picked her up and phased us inside. After I lay her down on one of the bunks, I carefully took her cap and hung it on the bed post. Covering her up, I suddenly felt strange. Was I falling for Gabbs? Nah.

 

After I was certain Gabbs was asleep, I flew to the theater. If I was right, my body was hidden in the theater basement where they stored all the backgrounds, props and costumes for the show. As I flew into the room, I heard voices. I looked down and saw Snyder conversing with Pulitzer. “What da hell are day up to?”

“I told you to keep him from warning Jack. Killing him was not part of the plan!” yelled Pulitzer.

“Well you could have been more specific.” Snyder argued back. It was hard to believe. They were working together. That must have been how Snyder found out about Jack. Pulitzer told him, not the paper. Then when I presented a problem, Snyder killed me. It was all becoming clear.

“Well, what's done is done. How do we clean up your mess? Staging a suicide may not be the answer.”

“Would you rather go to jail?! The answer is clear; if we fake this suicide it'll be like nothing happened.

“What about the others? Don't you think them boys will find it all a little suspicious? I wouldn't underestimate them.”

“We don't have a choice, Joe!” Pulitzer seemed to be taking this in.

“Alright. But we don't have much time. We set everything up tomorrow. I'll have them print a story in the paper. The newsies wanted a headline, that's just what they'll get.” Oh, no! I was too late! I sighed. There was nothing I could do. Jack and the fellas, if they really did still care, were going to be devastated. I saw them both kneel and pick up something wrapped in a tarp. No doubt it was my body. I watched from the rafters as they exited the building. Everything we worked for, all the sacrifices we had made, had been in vain. It was all over. Or was it?


	5. Chaos Erupts

(Third-Person-Point-of-View)

Morning came and sunlight poured through the windows of the newsboys' lodge house. It shown brightly on Gabby's eyes. Gabby blinked herself awake and sat up, rubbing her eyes. She yawned while stretching her muscles, popping a few joints here and there. Then, Gabby stopped. After last night's events, she couldn't recall how she ended up at the lodge house. Gabby shrugged her shoulders and got out of bed to begin her morning ritual.

When the nuns came with their daily food contribution, everyone lined up anxiously. It was finally the day of the rally and after they received their morning rations, each newsie rushed to the theater basement to prepare for the meeting. All the newsie territories were there, anxiously waiting for Jack to give his speech. Gabby rushed in just in time to see Jack walk in. All the other newsies clapped and cheered, but Gabby's mind was elsewhere. She hadn't seen Crutchie's ghost all morning. That and she had the unsettling feeling that something bad was about to happen. She awoke from thought when the boys started booing Jack.

“You can't call off da strike!” one of them hollered.

“Why should we listen ta youse anyway!” another yelled.

“I says Spot Conlon should lead us!” a Brooklyn newsie suggested. Suddenly, the noise was silenced when Davey put his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle. All eyes were on him.

“Jack, you can't be serious.”

“Well I am, ok?” Jack countered. Gabby saw him shaking, but it wasn't with anger. Jack was afraid. Something seemed off. There was something he wasn't telling them. Then she realized. Clearing her throat and pulling down her cap, she spoke up.

“Where's miss Katherine?” Gabby asked.

“She ain't comin, Gabbs.” Jack said. “It's prolly bett'ah dat way.” Jack looked truly defeated. Suddenly, Les ran down the stairs from theater exit, and came running in, carrying a newspaper. He stopped in front of Jack and handed him the paper. As Jack took it from his hand, Les fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air. Davey turned to Les and raised an eyebrow.

“Bought it from a scab.” Les panted.

“We can't buy papes from them, Les.” Davey scolded. “It goes against our cause. Say, are you alright?” His little brother ignored him entirely.

“...all over town...won't stop...about it!”

“Who won't stop talking about what?”

“The headline. Read the headline.” Les replied through huffing and puffing. Davey turned to Jack and leaned over his shoulder to read the print. But as soon as he got close enough to see, Jack turned away from him.

“Jack, let me see.” Davey put a hand on his shoulder but Jack swiped it away. “What's gotten into you?” Davey asked. But Jack didn't reply. Instead sobs were heard from his direction. Jack was trembling now, and even from where Davey was standing, he could see tears streaming down their leader's face. “I don't understand. What does it say, Les?” Davey turned to his little brother. Les didn't make eye contact.

“It's Crutchie.” Les began. “He's dead...” The whole room let out a gasp. The paper fell from Jack's hands in a scattered mess.

Davey picked up the front page from the dusty floor and read it aloud. “Crippled Newsie Found Dead!” He furrowed his brows and bit his lip. He tried to stay calm as he continued. “Last night, police found the body of 16-year-old Christopher (Crutchie) Morris. The news boy appeared to have jumped out the 2nd floor window of The Refuge, an adolescent correction center. The boy had committed suicide earlier that night. Warden Snyder, the man who runs The Refuge, said “the boy had been feeling poorly and wasn't eating.” He had tried to help the news boy but he refused and was violent towards Snyder. Crutchie had polio as a child and had no family to take care of him. “I saw the boy as the son I never had.” said the warden. “He and I knew his days were numbered...”

“Dat's a load o' hogwash!” yelled Race. He took a puff of his cigar and continued. “Crutchie don't has polio no more. He just has a gimp leg, dat's all.”

“Yeah, and we all know Snyder ain't no saint!” added Romeo.

“What stupid bastard wrote dat article anyways?” Spot asked. He was interrupted mid-sentence.

“Joseph Pulitzer.” Jack answered. The crowd barely heard him, for his reply came out in a shaky whisper.

“But that can't be true, right Jack?” The 17-year-old glanced at the little boy sitting on the floor next to him. Les had eventually caught his breath and was sitting on his knees, anxiously waiting for an answer. Jack sighed and bent down to the kid's level.

“I'm afraid it is, kiddo. I went ta visit him yesterday at da refuge; I climbt da fire-escape ta da 2nd floor window. Crow told me everyting. Apparently, Snyder tried ta get Crutchie ta rat me out. When he refust ta say anyting, Snyder beat da hell outta him. Crutchie didn't survive da soakin'. I didn't want ta believe it at first, but now...”

“Oh...” Les said, looking back down at the floor. Jack stood up and turned away from the crowd.

“I gotta go pay a visit ta Pulitzer. It's time I took him up on his offer.”

“Jack! Please, we can't give up now.” Davey persuaded.

“Ya jus don't get it do ya?” Jack turned to him and poked him in the chest. “Come on, Dave, use dat big brain o yours! It's ovah, okay? We lost!” Jack then turned and faced the other newsboys. “And who was we kiddin' anyways, huh? Day had us beat from da beginin'! I says we go beg for our jobs back, and hopes day're generous enough ta give em ta us!” Loud boos could be heard throughout the whole building as Jack left the theater. Davey and Les ran after him in hopes of changing his mind.

“Come on fellas, dis was a waste o time.” Gabby heard Spot Conlon tell the Brooklyn newsboys. She had to do something quick or the strike would be for nothing.

“Wait fellas!” she yelled across the room. All eyes were on her. Blushing a bit, she cleared her throat and spoke. “My fellow newsies, we's gotten so far in dis war, between us, David, and Pulitzer and Hearst, Goliath. Well let me tells ya sometin'; David, no matter how small, young, or weak in stature, always wins!”

“Who's ya callin' weak?” Spot demanded.

“Uh...” Gabby wasn't expecting this reaction.

“Hey wait a minute! Ain't youse da newbie?” asked Elmer.

“Yeah, he joint right aftah Crutchie was taken ta da Refuge.” Specs stated.

“He must of tipped off Snyder!” yelled another Manhattan newsie.

“Now fellas, wes don't know dat.” Race tried to reason with them.

“Gabbs is a spy!” yelled the random Manhattan newsie.

“Get em!” Spot Conlon commanded. Gabby's eyes got as big as teacup saucers. When the crowd tried to tackle her she quickly ducked and slid under them. Thinking she was home free she ran towards the exit only to bump right into Spot. She let out a quick gasp before dodging a punch. But she didn't dodge it enough. Gabby's cap was no longer on her head which meant her face was in plain view. Spot Conlon was in mid punch, staring at her exposed, feminine, facial, features.

“You's a girl?” Gabby nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Race behind her. She turned around and saw the disappointment in his eyes. Gabby, ashamed and embarrassed tried to explain.

“Race, I...” but he immediately interrupted her.

“Jack, Davey, and I, we trusted you, Gabbs. You've been lyin' all dis time?”

“Yes, but...”

“Get outta here.”

“What?” Gabby couldn't believe it.

“You'se heard me, I says get outta here!” Gabby glanced back at the stern, angry faces before running up the stairs and out the theater exit, sobbing all the way. Outside, she sat on a bench and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Why so glum, ducky?” Gabbs opened her eyes to see a transparent newsboy floating in front of her. She smiled weakly at the ghost.

“Boy, aren't you a sight for damp eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what'd you think? Next chapter we switch back to Crutchie's POV.


	6. What a Mess...

“I shoulda been dere.” I said to Gabbs. She had just finished telling me what I missed, and boy it was ugly. “Gabbs, I... I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay, Crutchie.” She sighed. “Besides, I'm the only one who can see and hear you remember? There's nothing you could've done anyway.” We sat there quietly, deep in thought. What were we going to do? Jack had given in to Pulitzer's offer and was probably leaving for the train station first thing tomorrow. Davey and Les were unable to convince him to fight back, so Davey decided to take on the role of leader. Spot Conlon said if he ever saw Jack again, he'd beat him to a bloody pulp. The boys locked Gabby out of the lodging house. And as for me, well, there was nothing I could do. It seemed this nightmare would never end. And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse...

“I'm leaving.” Gabbs finally spoke. She didn't meet my glance and instead seemed more interested in a lonely pebble in the dirt.  
“What do you mean 'leaving'?” I had to ask.  
“I'm going home, Crutchie.”  
“What?!”  
“It's for the best. I'm glad you came by before I left. I didn't want to leave without saying 'goodbye'.  
“But, who's gonna help me?”  
“You'll have to find another medium. Besides, I can't give you your life back. I'm not even sure it's possible.”  
“How'd you know...?”  
“Goodbye, Crutchie. I won't forget you.” And with that she left for the train station.

***

At this point, I had given up. Gabbs' train left that evening and never had I felt so alone. Jack must have been right, it was over. I figured I might as well do what other ghosts do and find some dusty, old, building to haunt for the rest of eternity. However, there was a place I hadn't been in a while and in a way, I wanted to say goodbye. I flew to the corner of May Wood and Hack Ridge. It was the place where my life (back when I was alive) changed forever.

I remember being so cold, every one of my bones shook painfully and my breath was like a cloud of smoke. Back then I was only 12 and still went by Christopher. I didn't know anyone but some kids at the orphanage. Wonder why I was at some street corner instead of sitting in front of a warm fire? Well, no one wants to adopt a kid with extra problems (if you know what I mean). Having monthly visits to the doc ain't exactly cheap, ya know. So, because they needed room for kids who were more adoptable, I couldn't stay. So, there I was, about to catch hypothermia, when some older kid walks up to me. He has a cocky grin on his face and holds out his hand. My current situation had made me bitter and angry.  
“I don't needs your sympathy.” I told the kid, as I swatted his hand away.  
“Names Jack. Who you be?”  
“Guess I'm not da only one wit problems. You'se mus be deaf.”  
“Look, I didn't come here ta feel sorry for ya.”  
“I'm listenin.”  
“Seems to me you'se got a choice; either you'se could stay here an freeze ta death, or you could take me up on my offer.”  
“Which is?”  
“I'm gonna offer ya a job, crip.”  
“Mah names, Christopher!” I began gesturing to my crooked leg. “Ya tink I like bein like dis? Ya tink it's easy wit dis useless, ugly leg o mine?”  
“No. But it could sure help ya sell papes.” Jack bent down so we were face to face. “Don't tink o dat leg as curse. Crips make excellent newsies, and ya knows why?”  
“Cause day tink I'm some poor soul who’s gonna keel ova an die any minute?”  
“Well, maybe some. But others like cripps because spite what’s happen ta em', day is still alive. It gives em' hope.”  
“Hope for what?”  
“Hope for a bettah futuah. Da world loves an underdog, ya know?” I was taking this in.  
“Why is ya helpin me, anyways?”  
“Why not?” I took a pause and thought it over. This could be my chance to better my situation. I'd have a life worth living.  
“Alright, Jack. You'se can count me in.”  
“Follow me, kid.” He tried to help me up and I whacked him in the arm with my crutch.  
“I don't need anyone helpin me, got it?” I said as I used my crutch to get up.  
“Got it.” said Jack as I walked past him. “Say your pretty good wit dat crutch o’ yours.” he complimented.  
“Yeah, da oddah kids ust ta call me 'Crutchie' at da orphanage. Da nuns didn't like it, doh.  
“Well I like it.”  
“Ya do?”  
“Yeah. Jus wait till ya meet da fellas. Dell like it too. In fact, from now on, your name is, 'Crutchie'.”

And so, my life as a newsie began. I'd been selling papers on that corner ever since. But now, I would never get the chance to again.

“Hey, kid, quit your mopin'.” said a gruff voice. Startled, I turned around to see (I kid you not) a cowboy staring straight at me. What's more, he was transparent and people on the streets were walking right through him! “Ya didn't think you’re the only ghost, did ya?” he asked me as if I were stupid.  
“Who’re you?” I asked.  
“20 years ago, when they hung me in Dodge, I went by El Desperado. Now I go by the name my mother gave me, James Richmond.”  
“But New York ain't Dodge.”  
“That's because Dodge isn't anywhere near here.”  
“Well den, where is it?”  
“Look, I didn't come here to give you a geography lesson.” the outlaw said irritably.  
“Den why is ya here?”  
“I've been sent here to give you a second chance. To give you back your life.”  
“What!”  
“Now go find your body. When you're completely phased in it, you will be resurrected.”  
“But,”  
“Go! Your friends need you.” And with that, he disappeared. I was in complete awe. I couldn't believe it. Then I remembered, he said my friends needed me. I had to hurry.


	7. Spillin' Da Beans

I had to find Jack first, so I flew as fast as I could to the train station. I wished with all my soul that Gabbs was still there, but I knew that it was pointless. As I arrived, I spotted Jack and the train that would make his dream a reality.  
“Jack, wait!” I heard someone say before I could. Confused, I turned to see none other than Gabby Jones marching up the steps to the platform. My jaw dropped in awe. I guess wishing did work. “Jack, please, you'se has ta come wit me!” Gabbs said in her newsboy accent. Jack must have not discovered the truth yet.  
“Gee wiz, Gabbs, you'se actin' as if someone’s in danger...” Jack replied with a raised eyebrow.  
“It's Davey, Jack,” She said anxiously. “, he's in trouble. The Delancys...”  
“I'm on it.” Jack said as he pulled down the gray cap over his dark hair. The engineer yelled one last 'All aboard!' as my friends took off towards Newsie Square.

***  
I followed Jack and Gabbs to what seemed to be a scuffle between Oscar and Morris, and our dear friend David Jacobs. Morris sneaked up behind Davey and locked his arms up under Davey's shoulders. Oscar nodded at Morris and was in mid-punch when Jack rushed in and hit Oscar so hard, I saw him spit out a few rotten teeth.  
“Oh, dear me! What is that most unpleasant aroma?” I turned to see Race and the other newsies had come to help. “Could it be, THE DELANCY BROTHERS?” And then...  
“Never fear, Brooklyn is here!” Spot and his bunch popped up out of nowhere. I watched as Spot grabbed hold of Oscar and Race grabbed Morris. Race then proceeded to extinguish his lit cigar on Morris' arm.  
“OWWW!” Morris let go of Davey and gently stroked the tender circle of burnt flesh. Spot gave Oscar a swift kick in the delicates and the man groaned in pain. When both Delancys were down, Jack walked over to Davey and said,  
“For a smart guy, ya sure do stupid tings.”  
“How did you know I needed your help? And what about your train?”  
“Foget about da train, if it wasn't for Gabbs here, you'd has been soaked so bad you'd need a crutch... Jack didn't finish his sentence. Instead his smile faded and he seemed to be deep in thought. I noticed that Gabbs was walking away.  
“Gabbs?” Race called out. She turned around. “You...you got Jack? How'd ya know?”  
“Same as you guys, Les told me”  
“Why?” Gabbs smiled and simply replied,  
“Because I had to help my brothers.”  
“Even aftah what we said?”  
“Well, sure. That's what a sister is for.” Davey and Les looked very confused.  
“Sister?” they exclaimed at the same time. I laughed a ghostly laugh, and got Gabbs laughing too.  
“What do you mean, 'sister'?” the elder brother asked. “And what's so funny?”  
“Well for one thing, I'm a girl.” she took off her cap as she explained. “For another, I'm not even from the state of New York. I'm actually from Ashford, Connecticut.”  
“Why didn't ya say anyting?” asked Race.  
“I thought if you knew the truth, you would never accept me.” Gabbs confessed. “I also failed to mention, that I'm not an orphan either. I have a home and a father back in Connecticut. I'm sorry I didn't tell all of you.” She hung her head and continued to walk away.

“Gabbs, wait!” I followed her to the lodge house. When I got there, I saw a suitcase laying open on her bunk. Clothing and other personal items were being thrown in with haste. “Gabbs, please? Don't go.” She didn't look up but I noticed tears streaming down her face. “Gabbs, look at me.” Without making eye-contact, she spoke.  
“Crutchie, I've delayed my leave long enough. I don't belong here.” She sighed. “Besides, my dad must be worried sick.”  
“But somethin' must have kept ya from leavin' last night.”  
“Well, on my way to the train station, I saw Katherine talking to Pulitzer. I followed them and discovered why Jack didn't want her help anymore. Katherine is Pulitzer's daughter.”  
“What? Why that dirty, two-faced, witch!” That really made my blood boil!  
“That's why I missed my train.” she explained.  
“Well, I'se might has a bit o’ news ta change your mind.” I told her.  
“I doubt it.” she said. I took a deep breath and told her what she had missed.  
“, and all I has ta do is find me body and phase into it! I'se been given anoddah chance!” Gabbs perked up.  
“Well, what are we waiting for, let's go!”

***

I remember following Pulitzer and Snyder to the basement under Pulitzer's office. This of course, was after they faked my suicide. They put my body and crutch in a wooden coffin near an old printing press. They said they would bury it once the strike was settled. After that, I found Gabbs sitting on a bench outside Medda's theater, crying uncontrollably. Now I could only hope that we weren't too late in getting to my body.

It was pitch black when we reached Pulitzer's office. I told Gabbs to wait outside. I phased into the brick, and flew into the room. Saying Pulitzer's office was neat would be an understatement. The figurines on the bookshelf were placed smallest to largest, the items on his desk were organized in alphabetical order, and the curtains on the office window were pulled back so that they were a foot apart.

“Cripes, what a neat freak.” I said to myself, rolling my eyes. I phased through the floor and continued to the basement. I scanned the back wall until I spotted the coffin. I opened it and sure enough, my body and crutch were still there. I knew it'd be hell going up those stairs alive, so I took my body and crutch and phased through the building until I was outside.

“You found it!” Gabbs exclaimed.  
“Keep it down, Gabbs! New York can't hear me but you'se is so loud ya could wake up da whole city.”  
“Sorry,” she whispered as she blushed. I gently lay my body on the cobbled street and my crutch in my right hand. As I hovered over my body, Gabbs suddenly spoke. “Wait, I forgot something. Be right back.” she said.  
“See ya on de oddah side.” I told her. I watched as Gabbs ran back in the direction of the lodging house. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, and lay into my body.


	8. Forget Me Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note; this chapter is supposed to be emotional. If you need help getting in the mood, listen to sad music. Note #2; The wonderful biankies has assisted me greatly on this chapter. When you get to this symbol, (!), everything after was written by biankies. Enjoy.

At first nothing happened. I lay there for what seemed like hours, my hope fading with each passing second. Just when I was about give up, I felt it; the same tingling sensation I got before I became a ghost. But it was different this time. When I died, my soul seemed to feel almost, relieved; as if the weight of pain, agony, and even life itself had been lifted. This time, it was quite the opposite. As my soul began to reunite with the body which once held it, the powerful forces of resurrection were upon me. I felt the agonizing bruises I had received at The Refuge, the reaction of my skin prickling from the chill of the Autumn night, and the tickle of my dirty-blonde hair on my forehead. My right leg felt horrible, as was normal. I had rejoined the living. I would have jumped for joy if I could. Instead, I gripped my crutch, and carefully hoisted myself up. I hobbled my way back to the Lodge House, more than happy to be alive.

***

 

As I thrust open the door to the bedroom my fellow newsies and I shared, I shouted to them, “Hiya fellas, dja miss me?”  
“Crutchie!?” Race said as the others gasped “You'se alive?! How is that even possible?”  
“It's a long story but I'se sure ma friend could tell it bett'ah den me. Say, where is Gabbs?”  
“Out for a walk. Jack was showing him the ropes.”  
“Him?” Suddenly, I saw a familiar ghostly figure out the window. “Uh fellas, I'se be right back.” I told them.

***

“How come I'se can see ya?” I asked James.  
“You've been touched by the Spirit world, kid. Because you were once part of it, some of its power resides within you.”  
“So, I'se a medium now?”  
“That and much more. I can't tell you everything.”  
“Oh.” I said. James blew his chocolate brown hair out of his tan face. He didn't look much older than Jack, probably only in his 20s. Despite his youthful appearance, his brown leather trench coat was shabby and the sleeves, collar, and bottom were ragged and torn beyond repair. He wore a red bandana that covered the neck of his burgundy shirt. His black cowboy hat covered the top of his neck-length hair.  
“You gonna keep staring at me?” James asked defensively.  
“Sorry. Um...where are you going after you help me?” this question seemed to catch him by surprise, for his expression wasn't as stern as before.  
“You really want to know?” I gave a silent nod. “Well, I s’pose they'll assign me to another client. Since I died an outlaw, I have to pay off my debt to society. For the 10 men I killed, I'm supposed to help the same amount of lost souls before I can cross over. You were number 9.”  
“So, you only have to help one more ghost?” I figured.  
“Yep, and then I can finally join my ma and pa. I've missed them somethin' awful.” For a moment, it seemed as if James were going to cry, but he cleared his throat and his face was stern once more. “It's time I left. There's a soul out there that needs my help and I must do the job I was given. Happy trails, kid.” And he removed the hat from his head and waved goodbye as his ghostly form faded away. I thought I'd seen the last of him...

***

I limped back inside, still wondering what James meant when he said I was more than a medium. I could hardly wait to tell Gabbs about it. She would know what he was talking about. I was making my way to the bedroom, when literally I bumped into one of the fellas. I fell backwards and landed on my rump.  
“Sorry, pal, I didn't see ya 'dere.” As I used my crutch to pick myself up, I looked at the face and recognized it instantly.  
“Gabbs!”  
“Yeah. How'd you know me name? I don't believe we's met.” Was she serious or just pulling my leg?  
“Uh, Gabbs? It's me; Crutchie.”  
“Nice ta meet ya, Crutchie.” She held out her hand.  
“Cut da act, Gabbs. It ain't funny.”  
“What ya mean by dat?” Then Jack came over and pulled me into a bear hug, almost causing me to fall again.  
“I see ya met our new recruit. Gabbs here is gonna help us wit da strike. Ain't dat right, Gabbs?”  
“Yep, you'se can count on me.” she said in her newsboy accent. Jack continued.  
“I can't believe you're alive, Crutchie. I thought I'd nev'ah see my brodd'ah again.” He pulled me into another hug. “It's good to have you back kid.”

***

The next day, I pulled Gabbs aside.  
“What's it gonna take for youse ta rememb'ah me?”  
“I'se sorry, Crutchie, but last night is da first time I'se seen ya. Believe me, I'd rememb'ah meetin' someone like you.” She sighed. “'Sides, you'se know nottin' 'bout me.”  
“I knows everyting 'bout you. Your real name's Gabby Jones. You're not from New York, you're from Ashford, Connecticut.” As I spoke, Gabbs' eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. “But most importantly, you're a medium. Ya see, dat's how we met, ya help't me when I was a ghost.” For a moment, Gabbs was quiet. “I knew it! You rememb'ah me don't ya?”  
“Wow.” she said. And then, *slap*. “How dare you go through my things! What are you, a peeping tom?” With my free hand, I reached up and felt the warm spot where she slapped me.  
“Gabbs, I...” She got in my face and pointed her index finger between my eyes.  
“You better keep this a secret, because if you tell anyone, you'll need more than a crutch to get around!” She then walked away without looking back. I couldn't help but cry. 

(!)I made my way to the roof of the lodging house as fast as I could. I didn’t want the fellas to see me cry. I didn’t think they’d understand, they’d just think I took one too many kicks to the head. Still I had to get Gabbs to remember me. She’d been my only friend for a while and I didn’t want to lose her. I just didn’t know how to make her remember but I wasn’t giving up.

After a while I heard someone coming up the ladder and I groaned. I didn’t want to see anyone. Whoever it was would ask questions and I really didn’t want to talk about it. They wouldn’t believe me anyway. A minute later Jack came up the ladder. As soon as he spotted me he frowned. I should have known he would come looking. He may not know my 'ghostly past' but he was a good friend, no, not friend, brother.

“Hey what’s the matter?” He asked as soon as he was sitting next to me.

“I’m just scared. I don’t wanna go back ta da refuge, Jack.” I replied. It was the only thing I could think of and it was true. The last time I was there it didn’t end well.

“I won’t let that happen.” He said patting me on the shoulder. I knew he wouldn’t.

“I’ll come down in a bit.” I said with a sad smile.

I knew I couldn’t sit around all day. I needed to get Gabbs to trust me again. I didn’t know how, all I knew was that I didn’t want to lose her. I didn’t know how I was going to get her back but I would. She may not remember me but that didn’t matter right now. I could get her to trust me again. It may take time but that was the one thing I could afford.

A few minutes later I climbed down carefully and went to find Jack and the other fellas. I couldn’t get away with sitting on that roof for long. They wouldn’t let me. Besides Gabbs would be there and now was the perfect time to start winning her over again. It wasn’t gonna be easy but that’s fine. She may have been wrong about me going through her stuff, but I could see her point. She didn’t know me anymore so it was the obvious reaction. It didn’t mean it hurt any less.

I found the guys easily enough and Romeo brought me the banner I had made. I proudly tied it to my crutch and started shouting for the strike again. It felt good to be alive. Still I would trade it all for Gabbs knowing me again. Then again, I can work on that and maybe we can be together now that I’m alive.

After a while I saw Gabbs and made my way over to her. As I limped along I tried to think of how to apologise for earlier without the others catching on that she was a girl. Maybe I should pull her aside again? No that won’t work. She ain’t gonna trust me this time. I could always say I was sorry for what happened. The fellas won’t understand it but she will and that’s all that matters.

“Hey Gabbs.” I said sounding almost nervous.  
“What da you want?” She asked rather annoyed.

“I jus wanna say sorry we got off to a bad start.” I replied wanting to kick myself for sounding so stupid.

“Ya really tink it'll be dat easy?” She said getting up and leaving.

I grimaced and watched as she walked away. This was definitely, not going to be easy but I guess I should let her cool off a little before I talked to her. Maybe she would listen to me then. For now, I would do my best to help with the strike and that was enough for me. Maybe I can make a difference after all. Wasn’t that why I was given a second chance?

“Jack, you ain’t gonna believe it!” Elmer shouted as he ran up to us and I gulped.  
Please let this not be what I think it’s gonna be.

***

Gabbs’ POV:

I was fuming. How dare he?! He goes through my stuff and then he thinks saying he’s sorry in front of the fellas was going to make it better. As cute as he was that wasn't going to cut it! He went through my stuff and now he knew that I was a girl and a medium. He had better keep it to himself or I’m going to make him regret knowing. I couldn’t have the others find out.

“Is it true?” Jack asked as he stormed into the bunkroom looking as mad as I felt.

“What?” I asked looking shocked. Please let them ask about something stupid.

“Is you really a girl?” Jack asked as the rest of the Newsies crowded into the bunkroom.

My eyes widened as I took in what he had asked. He had told! The idiot had told them that I was a girl! Did he tell them about me being a medium as well? What else had he told them? I didn’t really care. My time here was most likely over.

“You told them?!” I exclaimed the second he stepped into the room.

“I didn’t. I swear.” He said but I didn’t believe him.

“I can’t believe you lied to us!” Spot, who looked furious, yelled.

He wasn’t the only one though. Everyone was shouting and accusing me of everything bad, including being a spy for Pulitzer, as he just stood there looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. I couldn’t believe it. I had just lost the one place I thought was my safe haven in New York. I had lost my brothers.

“This is all your fault!” I yelled at him as I took a few steps closer to him.

“I’d never do dat, Gabbs.” He defended as he backed out of the room.

“You’re lying! How else would they know?!” I yelled back, angry tears threatening to spill.  
“Gabbs, I swear...” He began but he never finished his sentence. He was looking at someone behind me.

I turned around to see an angry Jack come towards me looking furious. He pushed me and told me to get out of there and I tried to. I backtracked as fast as I could but I tripped over my feet and would have gone tumbling over the railing that was supposed to keep us safe if Crutchie hadn’t pulled me back. As I landed on my butt I heard everyone shout his name and rush to the stairs.

“No!” I yelled as everything came back to me.

He was telling the truth. He had died in the refuge before. He must have found a way to come back and I forgot him! How could I forget?! He had been there for me when no one else was. He had never been anything but kind to me and I had not only slapped him in the face, I had also accused him of the last thing he’d ever do and now he was hurt because of me.

I pushed past the others, not caring about the tears that were making their way down my cheeks. All I knew was that I had to get to him. I couldn’t lose him. I loved him and he had saved me when I had accused him of spilling my secret. I was a horrible person. I didn’t deserve to be alive. I was the one who should have fallen, not Crutchie! He didn’t deserve it.

As soon as I reached him I fell to my knees. His eyes were closed and he didn’t look like he was breathing. I leaned down to try and find a heartbeat but it was so faint. He was dying. He was dying because of me. He had saved me and fallen through the railing himself. He had saved me when I didn’t deserve to be saved.

“I remember. I remember everything. I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me.” I whispered to him as I cried into his shirt.

He didn’t move.

“Please stay, I love you. Don’t leave me.” I whispered again before kissing him.


	9. End It Good

Crutchie's Point of View

I awoke to blurry vision and a voice echoing. After a few blinks, my vision and hearing cleared, and I saw Gabbs looking down at me. Then I heard cheering from every newsie in the room.  
“You're still alive? But how? I mean you fell from the...” Gabbs jabbered on and on and all I could do was laugh. “What's so funny?” she asked.  
“You.” I replied playfully. And before she could say anything else, I pulled her into an embrace and kissed her. The cheering turned into a bunch of oohing and Race let out a teasing whistle. I pulled away from Gabbs and looked into her beautiful, hazel eyes. “Gabbs, I'd nev'ah leave you. You means da world ta me.” I used my crutch and pulled myself up. “I love you.” At that moment, a ghostly mist filled the air. It was only there for moment and then it lifted. A final goodbye from James. Jack came up to us with a bewildered look on his face.  
“I rememb'ah now; I tink we all do's! Da rally, Davey, Gabbs' confession, everyting!”  
“But why did we forget in da first place?” Race asked as he lit a cigar.  
“Does it really matter?” Davey replied. “We got Crutchie and our memories back. Now we have a strike to win.”  
“Yeah, an Katherine showed me how!” Jack said excitedly.

 

We finally met up with Katherine around midnight, and then waited for her friends Bill and Darcy to show up. When they did, Kathrine, Jack, Race, Davey, Spot, Bill, and Darcy sneaked into Pulitzer's office using the janitor's keys. We waited as they printed the Newsie's Banner, which would hopefully win us the strike. Spot opened the window to let the others in so they could take the papers and spread the news to everyone in New York. By that afternoon, every sweatshop, factory, slaughterhouse, and newspaper was shut down, and that was just the beginning! Katherine went and got Teddy Roosevelt and she, Jack, Spot, and the governor went and made a deal with Pulitzer. As all us newsies stood outside, Gabbs leaned over and asked how I survived my fall.  
“I don't know. I tink a friend o' mine might a had somethin' to do wit it. Oh, an did I mention I'se a mediator now.” Gabbs just stood there, mouth wide open. “No slappin' dis time!” I winced. Then Gabbs leaned in further and kissed me.  
“I'm sorry, Crutchie. I promise, I will never hurt you again. I love you.”  
“I love you too, Gabbs.” Then Teddy Roosevelt came and made an announcement.  
Then I hear Elmer shout, “Hey look, it's Snyder and the cops!” Sure enough, the cops brought Snyder and were about to cuff him. I asked Roosevelt if I could do the honors. As I was cuffing him he just stared at me.  
“Well it's off to the pen with you, little man.” I said before hitting him in the rear with my crutch. “So long, sucka!” Afterwards, Joe offered Jack a job drawing pictures for his newspaper. But Jack declined. He still wanted to go to Santa Fe.  
“I don't get it.” said Davey. “What does Santa Fe got that New York ain't? Tarantulas?”  
“Better yet, what does New York got that Santa Fe ain't?” Katherine added.  
“New York's got us, and we're family.” I told Jack as I limped over to him and patted on the back. Then Katherine stepped between us and proceeded to assure Jack that no matter what he decided, she would always be at his side. After that, he chose to stay, knowing that things seemed to be looking up for him here in New York. I hobbled over to where the brunette in pink was standing. “Ms. Katherine?” I asked as I tapped her on the shoulder.  
“Yes?”  
“I'm Crutchie, an I'se like ta apologize.”  
“But you didn't,”  
“I didn't trust you, at first. But den, you helpt us an I see dat you really do care about Jack. It's just dat Jack an I are like broddahs, an I tought dat would change when he met you. I tought because of you he didn't care no'se more. But I was wrong, an I'm sorry.” Katherine looked at me kindly.  
“Crutchie, you didn't let me finish. I was going to say that you didn't do anything wrong.”  
“But I,”  
“You were only protecting your friendship. And you were right to be defensive. Trust is something you earn.”  
“So, since you're wit Jack now, I suppose dis makes us family.”  
“Really?”  
“Why sure. In fact, I says we make you'se an honorary newsie. I hereby dubs you, Ace, on accou'nah bein' da card we needed to win”  
“How da hell you'se know about poka.” asked Race.  
“I'se knows nuttin' bout dat. But if's ya mean dat card game, I sometimes watch ya play wit Elmer.” We all laughed at the bewildered look on the gambler newsie's face.  
“Guess I walkt inta dat one.” Race shrugged and lit a cigar.  
Suddenly we hear Mr. Wiesel shout, “Papes for da newsies!”  
“Well, time ta do what we does best!” I told Jack.  
“You'se got it, Crutch. Wond'ah what da headline will be taday?”  
“Doesn't matter.” said Davey. “Headlines don't sell papes,” He said as he put on his cap. “Newsies sell papes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay toont for da sequel!
> 
> Love Triangle of 1899
> 
> Hey everyone, Cara here. Sorry I rushed the last chapter but truth be told, I didn't know how else to end it. I will give you 3 hints from the sequel on account of 3 is a magic number, lol.
> 
> Hint (1) It's not a yaoi or yuri. Not that I'm a homophobe, I just don't approve of Gaysies. Sorry.
> 
> Hint (2) The story is told from Race's point of view.
> 
> Hint (3) Three new OCs will be introduced.
> 
> Keep Calm and Seize the Day! That's all for now!


End file.
